


A Very Special Day

by HammerToFall_Archivist



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-19
Updated: 2002-11-19
Packaged: 2018-12-15 10:25:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11804112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HammerToFall_Archivist/pseuds/HammerToFall_Archivist
Summary: By Ros WilliamsA "Rumours of Death" story.





	A Very Special Day

**Author's Note:**

> Note from oracne, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Hammer to Fall](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Hammer_to_Fall), a Blake’s 7 archive, which has been offline for several years. To keep the works available for readers and scholars, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after June 2017. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Hammer to Fall collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HammerToFall/profile).
> 
> previously published in INPUT #1 (1988)

"Well, my dear...the great day is here," said High Councillor Chesku.

Sula looked at her husband with barely-concealed contempt. What a boring, pompous fool he was; how stupid, to be eternally bowing to Servalan's whims. "It's a waste of everyone's time," she said shortly. "Resources squandered, important officials dragged from more important tasks, security...."

"There's always security," Chesku said.

"Excessive security is necessary,  _just_  because Servalan has to indulge some ludicrous fancy. Not only does she build a ridiculous monstrosity...."

"Thereby providing many citizens with work...."

"Work can always be found for the industrious!" Sula snapped.

"Not easily; and it's unwise to have some citizens sitting around aimlessly on their backsides while others toil. Anyway, the building is not a monstrosity. It is based on old plans, pre-atomic plans. You know that's so.... Furthermore, it is beautiful."

Sula snorted. "It's a foolish anachronism, and it's furnished with artifacts which are both unnecessary and ridiculously ornate."

"Again, they are beautiful."

"Rubbish," Sula said, "all rubbish,  _and_  unnecessarily provocative to the ordinary Federation citizen."

Chesku sighed inwardly. What a pity it was that his wife had no appreciation of beautiful things. All she seemed to care about these days was some obsession with austerity. He would have liked to decorate and furnish his own home as Servalan had done with hers, but there was no point even in suggesting it, for Sula would block his every effort. "Even if you don't like the place, you can put up with it for today," he said shortly. "When will you be ready to leave? Or perhaps you would rather not attend? There will be little point in your coming if all you intend to do is sulk or grumble."

Sula stared at him haughtily. "I shall not sulk," she said coldly, "and I shall not complain--openly. I am sure that I shall be able to contain my contempt for the whole affair sufficiently to avoid embarrassing you, Chesku." Or at least, she thought savagely, to start with.... Later? That would be a different matter entirely, but Chesku would not be present, later, to care one way or the other. "Ten minutes," she said. "You may order the transport."

He nodded curtly and left her. Staring after him, she smiled. It would not be long before she would be rid of him for good; and, with luck, Servalan also. "Make the most of your day, husband," she murmured. "You won't live to see another."

 

#

Dayna Mellanby did not much enjoy sitting around waiting for anything. "Come along, come along!" she exclaimed to the perspex-encased computer at her side. "He must have stopped sending by now."

"Indeed no," the computer replied. "The signal is still registering."

"Hang it," Dayna said, "we're going to be seen, I know it. We'll have to run, and then where will Avon be?"

"Is that a serious question?" Orac enquired.

"I reckon he's laughing at you," Vila remarked over Dayna's shoulder. "Go on, Orac, tell us: where will Avon be?"

"There is no point in my answering such a ludicrous question," Orac remarked primly, and sank into silence.

Vila grinned.

 

#

Kerr Avon had experienced Federation torture before and had been in no doubt what he would have to suffer for the sake of a promise. It had been easy enough to arouse the suspicions of some Federation guards, but harder to convince his first interrogators that he was of sufficient importance to merit top-level investigation. Still, he was where he wanted to be, waiting for Shrinker; waiting for revenge.

They'd not damaged him much, as yet, since he's suggested he had very special secrets and they did not want him to forget them through some junior interrogator's cheerful carelessness. It was all very well using psychopaths and sadists in the early stages, but there were times when they could forget their duties and set out to merely enjoy themselves. It had been Avon's task to ensure that the enjoyment did not get out of hand, and he supposed he'd managed that well enough.

Nonetheless, it had not been amusing. Only the need for justice, the death of Anna's murderer, kept him here. Anna.... How long he'd loved her, would surely love her still if only.... It was all so long ago, so far away from  _Liberator_ and the dangerous, fugitive life he led now. What would Anna have thought of  _Liberator_ , and Blake?

But then, if his plan had not been betrayed, he'd never have known Blake. There was little point in wondering about it.

Damn it, where was Shrinker? This was simply wasting time.

 

#

There would always be duties, Servalan supposed, smiling slightly to herself as she attended to the day's essential paperwork; no-one could escape some work or other, especially not the President of the Terran Federation, but it would not be for long, today...today of all days.

Her Inauguration had been the last great day. Now it was the official completion of her magnificent, beautiful, imposing Presidential Palace, and the banquet which was to be presented exactly as historical record detailed past banquets in great houses long ago. There had been Kings and Queens, and the President was no different than a Prince to them: more important, perhaps, with all the planets and systems she controlled through great reaches of the galaxy. How would they have viewed her Empire, those past Princes?

She thrust aside the last of the papers and called for her aide to remove them. "No more for today," she commanded. "Today...from now...is mine." She smiled again as her aide left the room. This day would never, never be forgotten. This day would be unique.

 

#

"What's he like, this intractable nuisance you've found for me?" Chief Interrogator Shrinker enquired as he entered his security code into his console and waited for the initial data on the 'nuisance' to appear.

"Secretive, Sir," the security operative said, "and hard."

"Hard?" Shrinker grinned appreciatively. "That sounds challenging. Do you think I am going to enjoy this encounter, Stavran?"

"Undoubtedly, Sir."

"He'll take a lot, will he, before he breaks?" Shrinker's grin widened. "Not too much, of course," he added lightly. "Don't want it to take too long, do we?"

Stavran also grinned. "No indeed, Sir. Superiors might get--er--impatient."

"Don't worry," Shrinker said calmly. "I know all about how long superiors will wait. I'll time it to ensure I get what they want quickly enough, but not so quickly that we don't have a little bit of fun...eh?"

Hang it, Stavran thought as he watched the data listing on the screen and Shrinker's glittering eyes as he read it all, there had to be perks. Perks were all part of the job. You didn't get into the persuasion business if it was all chores and no fun.

"Yes," Shrinker said thoughtfully as the data ended and he blanked the screen, "I think this one will be very rewarding. He'll hold out quite a bit, much longer than most, but eventually he'll break. They all do, Stavran, every last one of them...eventually. And when he does break, it'll be complete, devastating, and entirely comprehensive. It's not often I get a challenge like this, Stavran, more's the pity. This one is going to be quite something!"

"A very special one, is he, Sir?" Stavran murmured appreciatively. "I can see this is going to be a  _very_  special day."

"Yes, indeed," Shrinker replied, getting to his feet. "So let's get it rolling, right now. Take me to him, my lad...the sooner, the better. He must be getting very impatient."

"If he is, " Stavran said, "he'll soon regret it. Or perhaps he'll like to think later how he made your very special day for you, Sir?"

"Later, he won't be thinking at all," Shrinker said flatly. "I'll see to that, Stavran. It'll be a 'special day' for the prisoner too--the day his mind blows for good."

Stavran sniggered. Trust Shrinker to make  _everyone's_  day. This was going to be fun.

 

#

Cally thrust aside her stylus and got restlessly to her feet. She had been trying to sketch, anything to relax her anxious thoughts into some kind of sensible coherence, but it was impossible to concentrate, and all that came from her stylus was chaos and savagery. She looked at the discarded sheets littering the floor and sighed, tempted to leave them where they were, but her inevitable need for order and harmony forced her to pick them up and tidy them into the waste chute. She shook her head sadly as she looked at each one again before discarding it for good. "Useless," she murmured sadly, "but very revealing when it comes to my state of mind."

She had not wanted to see Avon leave for Earth, had pleaded with him to forget Anna's murderer and all the past sorrows which had finally driven him to seek revenge. "It's pointless," she had said fiercely, seizing his arm, uncaring of his obvious distaste at both the familiarity and the open passion. "He'll suffer for it, some way, some time. There's no need for you to take this into your own hands."

"There's every need," he had retorted icily. "I have to do it for myself--make him die as he made her die. Only then can I feel her death has been avenged."

"You can't know he killed her out of spite," Cally cried, "and if she died under interrogation it was because they were convinced she had information they desperately needed. Your crime posed a security risk, Avon--a fearful risk. Why else should they have committed you to Cygnus Alpha--unless they felt that they had to get you out of the way for good?"

Avon stared at her blankly, not understanding at all the morality she was trying to express. "Shrinker killed her," he said flatly. "Orac has discovered it in Federation records. Shrinker was her interrogator, and so Shrinker ordered her death--one way or another. For that, Shrinker dies. It's only a death for a death, Cally, one for another...fair's fair."

"There's nothing fair about it," Cally said bitterly, "nothing at all. He was only doing his job."

"His job is butchery," Avon replied. "Butchers of that type are barely human."

"So what do you intend to do? Kill him as though he's an animal?"

"It's what he deserves," Avon said, "and yet...can you imagine that any animal...any dumb creature...could behave as this so-called human behaves day in, day out, towards his fellow-humans? No, I won't kill him in that way at all. I'll let him think about his death--for as long as he chooses. He can use his...intelligence."

"So you'll torture him as he tortured Anna?" Cally had queried. "You're no better than he is, Avon, no better at all. Can't you see that?"

"I can see your argument, but I reject it," Avon said icily. "Shrinker offends humanity, and Shrinker will die in complete understanding of his own despair. Shrinker will suffer as Anna suffered."

"You cannot act as God," Cally said angrily. "It's too much, Avon."

"There are no gods," Avon said, "because the Federation has denied them. Revenge no longer belongs to any god, Cally."

"Then let it be someone else," she exclaimed, "someone who does not care. Don't take that guilt upon yourself."

He stared at her. "Guilt? I shan't feel any guilt for him." He laughed hollowly and walked away.

"Don't you see?" Tarrant had said from behind her. "Someone has to do it--not just for Anna but for all those others Shrinker has killed. And it might as well be Avon. He's stronger than any of us."

Thinking of it, Cally found her eyes were filled with tears. Still clutching the last of the worthless drawings, she wept.

 

#

In the cell on Earth, Avon got slowly to his feet and faced the next of the Federation's brutes. Was this one Shrinker? Had the day...the great day...the day of his revenge and the absolution, at last, of that fearful guilt he felt for her death...come at last? My day, he thought viciously as he faced the brute and pretended fear...my special day for cold, premeditated murder, pure and absolute...for Anna. A very special day.

the end


End file.
